


Keeping His Thoughts to Himself, He'd Be Leaving Soon

by sammyspreadyourwings



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Band as Family, Based on Movie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, HIV/AIDS, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Introspection, M/M, Male Friendship, Terminal Illnesses, real life people as characters, will tag as updated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-27 06:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Everyone in Freddie's life knows there's something wrong, they just don't know what until he tells them.





	1. Hurry Back, Please Bring It Back Home To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I caved y'all, and it's a 5+1 kind of.

Mary knows she’s being unreasonable, it was a dream after all, but at the same time her contact from Freddie has gone from almost every day to nonexistent, and it’s been a year. David accepts it, even if he doesn’t understand.

Mary also knows something is wrong the second she sees Freddie. He who is so full of life and passion and near shade on the couch. She doesn’t let her mind jump to conclusions but her heart twists in a vice. It’s not hard to tell Freddie is ill and she hopes its an emotional sort of illness and not anything physical.

She’ll have a hard time forgiving herself for not being more persistent in checking after Freddie herself if that’s the case, even though Freddie is an adult. Paul was always bad news, and she should have stepped in back then. It’s too late now, and she can only hope that she isn’t too late.

Freddie has to come home, that much is clear. The boys, despite their simmering anger, are also worried. She’s seen it on Roger’s face when she ran into him last month at the store, and she knows Brian and John well enough that once they care they _don’t stop_ caring. The picture is so easy to paint in her head, Freddie trailing in after her, shamefaced and hunched down. John will be the first to embrace him because John and Freddie have always had a slightly better connection and John doesn’t hold grudges over mistakes. Brian will scold first and then fold into the embrace because Freddie will have to learn how badly his choices wounded them but that they’re family. Roger will be the last to accept Freddie back, he’ll stand back for a minute while scowling and then he’ll follow suit.

They’ll hug it out as they’ve always done whether it’s in celebration or in pain, and then they’ll be _Queen_ again.

The image is clear as day and she knocks on the window.

Freddie reacts to her slower than he usually would, but his face lights up all the same. His complexion is a little grayer and his cheeks more sunken, but it’s Freddie, Mary can see it in his eyes hidden beneath whatever it was that made him hideaway in Germany.

They don’t spend time on pleasantries, it’s too simple for a relationship as complex as theirs. Freddie is tired, none of his natural exuberance or spark is present. Mary wants nothing more than to take him in her arms and drag her to the waiting taxi, drag him back to the boys who still ask if anyone’s heard from Freddie. She doesn’t, because this isn’t her choice to make and she’s only here to comfort herself as selfish as it seems. She’s afraid for him, she’ll always be worried for him, but she knew when she came here that it was to make sure that he was okay and not _voiceless._

He might as well be, she thinks. There’s a lot he isn’t telling her, there’s a certain flick of fear in his eyes. Mary knows that he knows that if this life doesn’t change, he won’t have much of it left.

She tells him as much. He knows as much.

They’re at an impasse again, and this is why they couldn’t work. Freddie takes every scrap he’s given and turns it into music or a performance until he’s bled dry. This life was always going to be hard for him, but Mary hadn’t thought that this life he loved so much would _ruin_ him. Ruin the good thing he had with the band.

Paul comes back, and she feels the air shift with unease. Freddie knows that Paul is just using him on some level, but Freddie has also believed that Paul’s the only one that’s there for him now. Mary doesn’t know when that changed, when Freddie no longer saw the band as a support system or when the band drifted away. She knows they all saw this coming, and they still let Paul get under Freddie’s skin.

It’s possible he does know Freddie differently than her or Brian or Roger or John, but he doesn’t know everything.

They all only know parts of the Great Freddie Mercury, and together they can make a whole. Only Freddie knows Freddie, and he keeps that pushed as tightly as he can.

She leaves him.

Mary knows that if he follows, she’ll have a chance to get him back. If he doesn’t, then, she knows that they’ve lost him. She can tell the band that, maybe start their own healing process. As if any of them would give up on Freddie, but they’ve tried to help in the past even if they’ve gone about it the wrong way.

She doesn’t let her breath of relief become audible as Freddie catches up to her. He’s drenched in seconds, and she doesn’t like the thought of him being out in the cold rain if he is ill, but it might keep him from slipping under the haze he’s been in.

“Me and Brian and John and Roger, we all love you.”

“I’m scared,” Freddie admits.

Mary is glad that he said it out loud despite how much her heart wrenches at the thought of Freddie, who has always been one of the bravest men she knows, scared. That’s what’s Paul and the insecurity they left unchecked have done to him.

“You don’t have to be,” she begs, “come home.”

The word resonates in him, she can see him mouth it. He wants that just as badly as she wants him back in London. There’s a lot to fix, but if he comes back, they have the chance. Like this, like they are now, Freddie is going to be alone for the rest of his life. No matter how tightly Paul clings.

She can’t stay much longer. Mary must hope that her words have as much impact as she thinks they have.

Mary knows, somehow, that she might have already been too late. 


	2. Are You Happy, Are You Satisfied?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is written so quick updates while I wait work on my next project and maybe something queen related, we'll see. Oh shoot, also all chapter and titles are lyrics from Queen obvi.

John has always been hypervigilant when it came to the band. Roger and Freddie could get into more trouble in a single morning than he thought possible, and it was a nightmare when they combined forces. They all remember the eggs on the ceiling. Despite John’s vigilance, Brian has always been the one to corral Freddie and Roger when they got into their moods, he was the immovable object between the two’s unstoppable forces. John always noticed when one of them was sick or upset, not that he was good a comforting, that was more of a Brian or Freddie thing.

So, he’s not entirely sure how he missed Freddie’s self-exile from the band. He’s sure he noticed that Fred was coming out with them less, relying more on Paul and his adoring masses for comfort. John doesn’t want to think that he missed it because he was taking the drift personally, but all evidence points to that being the case. A strong dislike of Paul had him avoiding the man at all costs, sometimes a challenge when he became Freddie’s shadow, so he missed what kind of poison he was feeding Freddie.

He’s sure that this entire thing was Paul’s idea but warped enough to make it seem like it was Fred’s. John really should have seen it coming.

He absolutely hates that he didn’t.

There’s a sore spot in the band that no one is brave enough to poke at, despite them treading around it. He sees it every time Brian rushes to the phone and every time Roger comes into the studio a little unsteady after running into Mary out on the town. John has been hyper-alert to the studio door, half expecting Freddie to waltz into the room acting as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a year.

He might even be willing to ignore the circumstances because that means Freddie was back and probably away from Paul. It’d help him sleep at night, that’s for certain. There’s a chill of dread that rushes up his spine every time he hears mention of AIDS or HIV. John hadn’t been overly careful during his wild years, but Freddie never did anything by half measures.

It’d be a miracle if he didn’t catch anything. John often sends up little trades to the sky in hopes that his words can make Freddie one of the lucky ones. As much as he hates to think of it that way. It’s too much of a death sentence, and he knows that Paul will leave the moment he can’t wring anything from Freddie anymore.

He half wishes Roger had thrown the man out of a window, but it would have still left Freddie feeling alone.

How did he miss something so blatantly obvious? He’s seen the difference between someone who likes to party too much and someone who's using a party as a filler.

Part of him wants to be the one to reach out. It might be easier to get Freddie back if it were one of the band, but he’s still hurting from the way Freddie left. As if he decided the pain from the band wasn’t worth it anymore. John doesn’t blame him for hurting, they missed the signs, didn’t step in when they should have, but he does blame Freddie for running away instead of trying to talk it out with them first.

It felt too much like a slap for him to be entirely comfortable in asking Freddie to come back, but he wants to check for himself that Freddie’s alright. Make sure he’s being safe while partying, he knows Freddie isn’t because he doesn’t think anyone explained the risks to him since the disease was found. They all wanted the blissful ignorance of thinking that it wouldn’t happen to Freddie because it was unthinkable.

The twist in his gut wants him to think that it’s already happened. It makes the urge to call stronger. John has to consider the other two before he reaches out to Fred. Brian isn’t angry, not like he was the day it happened but even then that was an anger-laced concern, he’s more bitter than anything else; and Roger _is_ still angry, it comes in waves, but John is familiar enough to know that just because Roger currently isn’t throwing things that it doesn’t mean he won’t the second he gets reminded of whatever it was.

They all care too deeply about the band and each other. That’s why Queen _works_.  It’s why Freddie leaving hurt so bad, in doing so he destroyed the band and it seems like he’s destroying himself.

John has trouble keeping himself from wincing when he sees another tabloid with **AT RISK** printed across the top. It’s old, and he’s seen the paper enough to know that it was referring to Freddie. There were literal warning signs that John ignored, for some unknown reason. He doubts this was avoidable, Freddie is his own person, and maybe this was just an ill-advised way for him to find more of himself.

There’s no way to know what Freddie’s thinking. They can all tune into him at times, or more commonly get caught up in his enthusiasm and passion and they go with it because Freddie is as much as a musical genius as any of them, maybe more so. John’s watched Freddie for years, since the first time they performed together, he knows Freddie’s tells. This didn’t have any of those tells, John’s sure. Nothing more obvious than it being Freddie’s continued downward spiral they all had been seeing.

Although, it might not have entirely been the fact that he could party, so much as he felt like he had to.

John knew that Freddie liked partying, they all did, but this had become something else. He had missed it, and now his friend was countries away and likely suffering at the hands of someone who didn’t care for him beyond his fame and thinking that he’s alone.

John has seen the papers, and he’s pretty sure that fortune may favor the bold, but the odds were stacked against Freddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy. It's ya boi Roger next!


	3. We let the Good Times Rock We let the Bad Times Roll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya boi Roger Taylor.

Roger is aware that he has the shortest fuse to anger in the band, but he also knows that he has the longest time of being angry as well. The band has learned to work around it like they learned to work around Brian’s need for guitar solos in every song and Deaky’s weird musical quirks and Freddie’s…Freddieness. That’s what they did, they worked around their problems, because they were more than a band. They are…were before Freddie fucked off to Germany…a family.

He wants to give the man a piece of his mind, he’s not really sure where to start. For all Freddie’s talk about music and putting the band first, it figures he’d be the first to fuck it all up. Roger hates it, hates how he’s still angry about it a year later when everyone else seems to be resigned to the fact they just don’t _know_ anything about Freddie, aside from Paul’s claims he’s working. They don’t know what kind of state Freddie is in, and as much as Roger wants to punch him in the face, he can’t stop himself from being concerned. They’ve gone from seeing each other practically every day to not existing to each other, and he’s pretty sure that’s what it feels like to lose a limb.

He is at the grocery store when he hears Freddie’s voice for the first time, not backed by any of their instruments. Apparently, he’s finished one of his albums or they’ve released a single, Roger can’t bring himself to care too much because of the white-hot rage surging through his veins. It’s a reminder that Fred left them all to stumble through and find their own way because there’s no Queen without the four of them not in the same way.

Then Roger actually listens to the song. The speakers in the grocery aren’t quality, but they’re good enough when he stands under one. It’s Freddie, the range is all there, and he’s singing notes like this was Somebody to Love, but there’s a change. Roger tilts his head and closes his eyes, let’s his ear find the problem for him. Genre aside, Queen has never been a traditional rock band, there’s a distinct lack of soul. It’s technically perfect, but there’s no hearty guitar solo or weird base rhythm or even his steady but imaginative drumming. For the first time, Roger doesn’t _hear_ Freddie in the songs, there’s no difference to the fans of course, but in each song Queen has ever done that was originally written by Freddie, there was another clue to who Freddie is.

The music isn’t Freddie, and that itself is more telling than any phone call would be. The Fred from Bohemian Rhapsody wouldn’t have put something out that he didn’t like on some degree. Hell, it took them years to even hear the opening notes of Borhap because Freddie didn’t know if it could be anything. Roger is certain, now, that whatever was left from Freddie before he fired Ried was gone. Paul and whatever the hell he had done or was doing, had somehow stolen the music from Freddie Mercury.

Maybe Fred had done it to himself, Roger thinks. He’s an adult who hasn’t learned actions have consequences, but back in 1972, Roger would have bet his drumming talent that death would have to take Freddie before he lost his passion for music.

Roger snorts and opens his eyes. Serves him right, a bitter part of his mind thinks, the part of him that still feels slighted that Freddie walked out on them for four million dollars. The other part of him, the one that remembers bouncing around and falling over themselves while recording bohemian rhapsody starts to panic.

If Freddie were to return tomorrow, Roger isn’t sure they could reverse whatever damage has been done.

He thinks it might be part of the curse of being a rock star, the women and the men and the drugs and the booze. Rarely do their peers make it in the news for anything good, beyond albums. Roger never thought Queen would spiral into that drama, he had thought that they were different. All their drama was internal and easily taken care of. They were a family, not just a band. Of course, he realizes now that this was just something that simmered in the background until it blew up in their faces.

Someone more observant probably should have noticed Fred’s… whatever his tells were.

The last notes of the song trail through the speakers. It’s more subdued than any of Queen’s anthems. Roger would have added more drums towards the end, and he’s sure Brian would have added more guitar. They would have put more bass in because Freddie had done the heavy lifting with his voice, so they would have given him a break between songs.

Roger hates that it’s the easiest thing in the world to imagine how they would have changed that song. It might not have been any better, but it would have been there’s, and on some level, Roger knows that Freddie would have a song with more passion because he had people supporting him. Possibly. Who the hell knew what Fred was thinking half the time?

He stands in the middle of the store as an older Beatles song plays. Roger wonders how they got along after Lennon’s death. Freddie isn’t dead, but Roger can’t help but feel like when he walked out of his own house, that they lost him. Queen isn’t Queen without all four of them, the four misfits who gave each other a chance.

They wouldn’t have gotten off the ground without Freddie making it happen. That thought is scarier than anything happening now. Roger decides that he’d rather have lived his life knowing Freddie and losing him than having lived without ever meeting or performing without Freddie.

It’s sentimental in a way that would make Freddie proud and Brian teases him. He’s sure they feel the same way.

Roger is afraid that they’ve already lost Freddie and they won’t get to make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Brian, also leave your thoughts in the comments below!


	4. This World has Only One Sweet Moment set Aside for Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So moving right along with the updates. Brian May today!

Brian doesn’t think he’ll be able to rest easy until he knows Freddie is fine. Brian isn’t one for pure speculation without evidence, but John has a bad feeling and Roger seems to think that it’s in the music and Mary is spooked enough she’s considering physically visiting; so even though there’s a lack of proof there’s no absence of evidence. He’s more inclined to believe John who’s gut is typically right and Roger who knows Fred’s music and he knows Mary won’t lie to them.

It’s the feeling he’s had since the day Freddie walked out of the front door. He was angry, like the others, but he knew there was something more to it than just greed. Fred was many things, but greedy isn’t one of them. He’s less inclined to entirely blame it on Paul, as much as he dislikes the guy, but Paul has had no small part. Freddie doesn’t _do_ isolation. As spontaneous natured as he was, Freddie didn’t do anything without a reason, and those reasons followed a pattern.

Brian was glad for that because patterns made sense and were relaxing. It was part of what would have made him a good astrophysicist and why music came so easy. Queen wasn’t formulaic, but in their songs, they were a repeat of a chord in a verse or the same note pattern here.

So, when Jim (not Miami, that was Fred’s thing) called and ask to have a meeting, Brian couldn’t help but hope this was the turning point in this entire horrendous year. He could see the same thing in John and Roger. Although, Roger seemed less enthused and Brian didn’t know if it was because he was still royally pissed at Freddie (it was all surface anger and a deep hurt now) or if it was because he had run into Mary again.

He notices Freddie right away. There’s a second of blinding relief because he’s _here_ and _healthy_ but then Brian gets a better look at him and that relief flips into concern. The concern is buried and he brings forward the feelings of hurt and indignation as a mask. Brian watches him, the skin looks a little waxy and there’s a set to Fred’s shoulders that’s never been there, almost defeated. There’s a tremor in his hands and a bounce to his leg, Brian knows he’s hiding something an idea rather than a problem, and it’s an idea that terrifies him.

It doesn’t bode well for this meeting.

Brian listens to Freddie’s words. They’re everything they want to hear, but there’s a sincerity to them that means Freddie does believe them rather than him just playing them to get something. His speaking voice is raspy and Brian’s almost afraid to ask what’s he done to it, even though Roger says he sounds as good as ever it could have been edited in the audio.

They’ve already spoken about what they would do if Freddie came back. The discussion was a year ago, but Brian knows it still stands. Queen means too much to them to let it go when Fred is so willing to work with them again, but Brian has also been hurting for a year and it’s always good to make Freddie sweat because that’s how you get the best out of him when he knows what’s on the line.

“Can you give us a minute?”

He looks startled and surprised, but Fred does what he’s told and wanders out into the hallway.

“What’d you do that for?” John asks.

Brian shrugs, “I just felt like it.”

The group falls silent and Jim takes that as his queue to go and talk to Fred in the hallway. Maybe he’ll get something more out of the skittish singer than they’ve ever been able to.

“We’re letting him back in, aren’t we?” John tilts his head.

“Are we?” Roger crosses his arms, “it’s been a bloody year.”

Brian eyes the drummer, the anger is more real in him. There’s no real reluctance in this posture, but Roger has always been the type to hurt first before he could hurt. It’s not worked out in the past and it’s come out towards Freddie more than once. John is cross-legged and curious, he’s the one that handled Freddie’s departure the best, no less injured, but when it comes to weathering temperaments John is the best.

“I vote we do,” John says, “he wants back in, but we have to make it conditional as we agreed.”

Brian nods, “we have a chance to save Queen, so I vote yes.”

Roger looks between them, “then he’s in.”

Brian leans back for a second, “there’s something wrong.”

John stands up, “he’ll tell us.”

“Or he won’t,” Roger shrugs.

There’s no ecstatic reaction from Freddie, he’s always been good at underplaying good news but this seems different. It’s pure relief and gratefulness. Alarms are ringing in Brian’s head but he can’t see an obvious reason for it. Which means there’s something spinning in Freddie’s head, and that’s what’s got them into this mess in the first place. Brian can’t press now, it’s too public despite it being nothing but family in this room.

Live-aid is another thought altogether. He wants to play in it, but he isn’t sure how relevant Queen is, the populace shifts their tastes so quickly and they’ve been gone for so long. He knows the others feel the same way. Then Freddie speaks.

“If we don’t do this, we’ll wake up the next morning after its done regretting it until we die.”

It’s the phrasing that tips him off. Brian is moved by the words because it’s just Freddie’s effect on people, but until we die gives off a much more immediate impression than the rest of our lives. This isn’t the time or place for the discussion of whatever thought is webbing Fred’s brain.

Brian knows, but he doesn’t want to put a voice to it, like a curse. He knows John is the same way. Roger, he thinks, is less aware of the risk but no less afraid to say something is _wrong_ and not in the sense of too much partying.

They’re doing live-aid because they want to. Brian thinks it sounds too much like a final request, but it’s a good one. If it is a last request, then Queen deserves no better send off than saying goodbye to the world.

Brian doesn’t think he’ll be able to rest easy, even with Freddie very much alive in front of him until he figures out what’s going on in that mysterious mind of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your thoughts and comments below, and the last chapter is up next ft Miami!  
> Arguably my favorite chapter.


	5. They Take Their Lives, Destroy Their Goals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last run.

****It’s hard hearing Freddie Mercury’s vocals be so very off. Jim knows that Freddie will find a way to work with this hand. There’s an indomitable spirit mixed between extravagant clothes and stunning musicianship. He never thought the reunion or the concert prep would be easy, but thankfully the boys slid back together with only minor awkwardness. Freddie is too afraid to push like he usually would with a change in the accompaniment and there’s the elephant in the room that none of the boys are willing to pursue.

Freddie will either fight or flee if pushed, and neither of those things is something the tentative bonds can take. It’ll be something that Freddie decides to do on his own, and only then will they figure out the haunted look he carries. Jim has never seen Freddie this scared, but even now he can see the fight the singer is having with himself. Freddie Mercury lives every day to the fullest, he’s just having trouble remembering that at the moment.

They have to break because Freddie’s vocals just aren’t back yet. Jim sees the end of the fight in his mind when Freddie nods. He straightens because he knows this is it.

_They just need time._

_What if I don’t have time?_

Jim knows. He can’t say anything before Freddie and he can’t outright ask, but he’s been in the industry long enough to know when the past has finally caught up. Usually, it’s in overdoses or suicides, as tragic as it is. He’s thankful in one sense, that Freddie managed to live to see the consequences, but he almost wonders if it would have been a kinder fate. Jim shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling on things that would never be.

The band is watching Freddie, now. Their attention is sharp, and he knows they’re half expecting half hoping for another apology. Jim is certain they have an inkling of what’s about to come to light. John is bracing himself on his legs, Roger’s posture is slightly aggressive, and Brian’s is tight.

Jim steps forward too but stops. This isn’t his moment, to them, he’s the outsider. Always has been.

“I have _it._ ”

_Shit._

* * *

John’s mind flicks to red boxed headlines. He feels the burn twirl in his throat, and he has to be certain because Freddie is cryptic at the best moments.

“It?” Such a stupid question.

There’s a reluctance on Freddie’s face. As if he was just coming to terms with the news himself. John knows that isn’t the case. Freddie is careful with emotions, more so after Mary, but he wouldn’t cause fear in something like this. John tries to fight the tears because he hasn’t even got the confirmation and he’s already signing off on the worse possible outcome.

“AIDS.”

John couldn’t stop the tears if he tried, because this was entirely unfair. He knows that the chances were good that this would happen, but he thought that maybe because it _was_ Freddie, the universe would be kinder. It’s a death sentence, but Freddie doesn’t seem phased by it.

He shakes his head and it seems to loosen the tears. They’re blindsided by the admission of course, but John doesn’t think there’s any amount of prep time that could have prepared him for this statement. It’s impossible to be surprised, he spent the better part of their separation dreading this outcome, out of everyone he should be the least surprised. He might be, but it does hurt. Hurts worse than when Freddie walked away from them, and this isn’t the hurt that isn’t going to heal, because there’s nothing that can be fixed about this.

Freddie is giving them time, John can tell because he has so much he wants to say, but while he’s had more time to them to come to terms with this he’s still had to dread their reaction to the news.

Like hell, they were going to treat him as a leaper. He hates that Freddie even had to think about that possibility. Some friends they’ve been.

* * *

Roger can’t connect the statements in his head. He knows what AIDS is and he knows what Freddie just said, but they don’t come together in his head because that would mean that Freddie was dying… And that didn’t make any sense. Freddie was standing before them as full of life as he’d ever been and not a dying man.

Freddie didn’t look like a dying man.

It’s impossible for him to find the words. Deaky and Freddie were always the ones that knew what to say. Even though it was Deaky’s question that got the information they all craved but didn’t want.

Would blissful ignorance be better? Or would it be a constant waiting for the other shoe to drop?

Roger leans back, he’s unsure of how to progress from here. John or Brian would have to take the lead because he doesn’t trust his voice enough to formulate any of the thoughts he’s thinking. I’m sorry seems too detached and anything else is a little too close to his heart and he isn’t ready for that kind of openness yet.

Brian speaks, “I’m so sorry.”

Roger knows it’s sincere, but it still is too few words. Brian seems to know it, but it’s also like he’s at a loss for words.

Thankfully Freddie isn’t.

“And if you bore me with your pity, well, that’s just seconds wasted that could be spent making music.”

Roger barely keeps the tears back. He’ll do that in the privacy of his own room when he doesn’t have to worry about losing too much of his heart. It’s hard, and not for the first time he admires Freddie’s composure, he rarely loses it.

Still, it’s the first sign of Freddie they’ve truly seen since they reunited. The Freddie who breathed music and performances. Roger somehow feels relief at that, if Freddie isn’t going to let this stop him, then Roger sees no reason to mourn him yet. Not while he’s still living.

As Freddie said, it’d just be seconds wasted.

* * *

“You’re a legend, Fred,” Roger says.

Brian first curses his own stupidity. He knew that simple platitudes wouldn’t go over with Freddie, but he didn’t know what else to say. Roger found the words before him for once. Even so, Brian still doesn’t know what to do with himself. He knew that something was wrong with Freddie, has known it since the office but he hadn’t thought, hadn’t wanted to consider a death sentence hanging over his best friend’s head.

Part of him admires the others, Deaky for showing emotion and Roger for keeping his composure (for once). He just doesn’t know what he wants to do. Freddie is giving him nothing to react to other than boundless confidence. Brian supposes that’s what he does need to react to, just like he always had, trust that Freddie knows what he’s doing. Although, that doesn’t stop his eyes from watering.

It’s been harder in the past few years, but this man seems more like the Freddie that approached them after a less-than-stellar Smile concert.

“We’re all legends,” Fred grins, “but you’re right, I am a legend.”

Brian chuckles. He knows Fred is trying to change the mood. It works somewhat. They’re going to have to talk about this more in depth later when they don’t have their reputations on the line in front of the whole world.

It won’t be the last time Queen performs, Brian is certain of that. Not with how Freddie is taking the news and his dedication to music. This performance does seem different than the others like Freddie has to prove something.

Freddie moves towards them, and they automatically wrap around each other. It’s familiar despite the last time they did this being years ago. There’s a change in the air, as if they’re falling back into place for the first time in years, they’re a new band going on their first American tour.

“Now, even though you’re all balling like babies, I still love you.”

Brian grins into the hug. They’ll get through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. Hope you all enjoyed it! I might be back in this fandom.

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen Borhap 4 times and I still don't have the dialogue memorized.


End file.
